


Red

by Ceata88



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Gabe probably had a lot on his mind in those last few years of overwatch, Gen, Hallucinations, Jesse is super supportive son, Oops, Paranoia, gender: hacked, genderfluid!sombra, me partially projecting on my favs oops, this got way out of hand, who's gonna protect his dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-07 14:24:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8804329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ceata88/pseuds/Ceata88
Summary: Gabriel Reyes was seeing red.





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> PfffffffffFFFFF when you get a headcannon and it turns into like a three part fic like rly this is getting so long I'm splitting it up to heck with it. 
> 
> As it mentions in the tags above there's blood and hallucinations 
> 
> part 2 is halfway done we'll see how long updates take (why can't I work on anything I NEED TO)

    Gabriel Reyes was seeing red.   
  
    He’d never been so aware of a color in his life. Streaks of it appeared everywhere he glanced, only to vanish moments later, if he was lucky.   
  
    And when did it all start? Why did it start now?  
  
    Killing people wasn’t anything new. He’d been putting bullets into brains at the age of nineteen. The shattering of skulls and the smell of gunpowder always lingered in the empty cavities of his head. It never stopped. From the military to SEP to Overwatch and now Blackwatch. It didn’t even change when his targets did. Oil and blood were the same when you thought about it. Warm, dark, sticky, it all clung to your clothes and left a nasty stain.   
  
    Maybe it was the nature of the jobs he took now. Maybe it was the amount of pressure building up on his shoulders, the paranoia as well. He didn’t trust most of these new agents. He felt eyes in the back of his neck and the burning point of a sniper rifle. His senses were constantly on overdrive and it took decades of acting practice to keep his cool.   
  
    Maybe it was because these missions kept going wrong, making his paranoia all the worse. So many of them should be flawless. He had the plans, he had the tactics, what was going wrong? These agents weren’t fools, yet he wound up with at least two bodies for every big operation, if not more.   
  
    They were worse when he was there. It was his job to lead them, protect them, but unpredictable events were always flying in. Any attempts to help just resulted in...  
  
    Red.   
  
    It was all over his hands, his arms, he could feel it along the side of his face. He wanted to help, tried to help, but a deep voice that almost sounded like his kept whispering in the back of his mind.  
  
     _Stick to the mission. Stick to the mission._  
  
    He got the job done. He always did. But the flight back carried four empty seats with it.   
  
    And somehow that was the one. It was barely any different from the dozens before it. Maybe it was exhaustion, the sticky sensation still seeping through his clothes onto his skin. Whatever the reason he could barely focus. He only made it as far as he did back on base was because of routine. He wasn’t conscious for a lick of it. He gave his men orders–that he couldn’t remember–and then headed to his room and then...  
  
    And then...   
  
    “Boss?”  
  
    He turned to look at Jesse, the young man’s expression laced with worry. He glanced back at his bedroom door that he still hadn’t opened. Just how long had he been standing there?  
  
    “Uh, rough day?” The cowboy was glancing him up and down. For some reason Gabriel squinted as he studied his face. When had this damn kid grown up so much?   
  
    “Eh, nevermind, you don’t gotta tell me about it. Anything I can help with? Paperwork?”  
  
    “You hate paperwork,” Gabriel reached toward the lock on his door before he remembered it required a fingerprint scan. He tugged off his glove.   
  
    “Yeah but it seems like you need to rest up. I know how to do it, I remember. I’ll just leave your signature off, even if I can copy it.” He laughed for a moment.   
  
    Gabriel thought about laughing back. It was pretty funny. That kid absorbed shit like a sponge even to this day.  
  
    But he couldn’t stop staring at his hand. The blood had gone through the material, practically dyeing his skin that terrifying shade of red. He rubbed his fingers together, watching it smear, almost turning darker.   
  
    “Boss?”  
  
    His gaze snapped up again. Jesse was standing closer to him this time.  
  
    “You sure you’re okay? You’re freakin’ me out a bit here.”   
  
    “I’m fine, Jesse.” He had to wipe his fingers down so that the scanner could read his prints properly. Somehow the red color glowed on his black pants before it faded out.   
  
    “Um, if you say so.” The kid was almost pouting, hands shoved in his pockets as he fidgeted. Then an idea must have struck, his eyebrows going up when he grinned. “Hey, how about I grab you some food while you change? You probably haven’t eaten much right?”   
  
    He almost laughed at the sudden role reversal as he jammed his thumb against the reader. The light went green and the door opened. When he moved his hand away he could see the pattern of his thumb, glowing red.   
  
    “I thought you were going to do paper work.” He joked.  
  
    “I’ll do that after. I’ll be right back boss.”   
  
    He couldn’t tell the kid no. The cowboy was already taking off down the hall, keeping his hat on his head. Sometimes he still ran like he did when he was seventeen.   
  
    Gabriel decided to linger on that memory instead of the angry streaks he left brushing against the doorway. He focused on the kid’s apparent lack of fear as he kept defying orders even with how tiny he was.   
  
    He started the shower before shedding his clothes, trying in vain to ignore how most of the fabric clung to his skin. At least he couldn’t register the smell anymore.  
      
    When the armor came off he tried to take a deep breath, but it felt like his lungs were filling up with smoke. The taste of ash and copper filled his mouth and he paused, putting a hand over his mouth. The scent of blood hit him then and he jerked his hand away, feeling it stick to his lips.   
  
    He needed a shower. He needed a nap.   
  
    The warm water did nothing to help. His focus was torn between watching dried blood get carried down the drain to droplets that ran down his skin. Every single one dragged his memory back to the battle field. Trying desperately to stop the bleeding but there was too much, too damn much. Blood would run over his fingers, down his arm, across his stomach, over his shoulders.   
  
    The metallic tang in the back of his throat got worse. The water seemed to get more and more red. The color shifted from a pastel shade to a violent one. He stepped away from it, but the water on his skin was turning red too. Rubbing it away failed. It got all over his hands, getting thicker and darker by the second. He glanced up to see the same shade of red pouring out of the shower head.  
  
    His hand slammed against the knob, shutting it all off.   
  
    It didn’t do much good. Blood ran down the walls, over his fingers. He could see it trapped under his nails now and he desperately tried to pick it out.   
  
    He shut his eyes, taking a deep breath as he searched for his towel.  
  
   _It’s not real, Gabriel. Get a grip. You’re tired. You need to sleep. It’s not real._   
  
    It helped for the time being. All the water on his skin was clear again, most of the blood had been washed off apart from the gunk under his nails. He ignored it while he dried off, tried to put it out of his mind. He focused on the sensation of the towel rubbing over his cheeks. The material was soft, warm, and smelled like fresh detergent. Something about it was familiar, like the smell of hotel bed sheets. For a few brief moments he could hear Jack giggling, squirming underneath him as Gabriel blew a raspberry against his neck.   
  
    He almost dropped the towel when he looked back up at the empty bathroom. The laughter faded, leaving the sound of water dripping from the shower head onto the spout below. He tried not to think about the image blood drops landing on the corpse of an omnic.   
  
    He needed sleep.   
  
    Gabriel tied the towel around his waist before he moved to the sink. He had to get the stains out from under his nails, but his fingers hesitated over the faucet. His grip on it was tight, too tight, and he turned it painfully slow to see what would emerge.  
  
    When the water was clean he turned it on all the way before grabbing the soap. He dug desperately at his fingers, wanting this over with as soon as possible. At least there wasn’t enough residue to leave anything noticeable in the sink.   
  
    He glanced up, studying the bags under his eyes. The normal dark brown that greeted him seemed off some how. He leaned closer, studying it, swearing it was shifting to something brighter.  
  
    “Gabriel.”  
  
    His gaze darted to the side. Ana was standing behind him, arms crossed.  
  
    Couldn’t be real, he knew that. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen her with her hair that raven black. He looked back down at his hands and tried to ignore it. Even then he could feel her staring at the back of his head. He could hear her step closer. Her breath trailed over his shoulder and his heart stopped. Fear got lodged in his throat and he was left staring at the soap bottle. The foam that was leftover on the tip was turning red.   
  
    “Gabriel,” She said again. Her hand brushed over his that were hanging uselessly under the running water. He turned it on cold, why was it turning warm?   
  
    “You’re not real.” He tried to pull his hands back, but somehow she held them there.   
  
    “Why did you stop looking for me?” Her other hand was trailing over his scalp now. She always had such delicate fingers.   
  
    “I haven’t,” He refused to look at her. “But I have a job to do, I have to-”   
  
    “Where do you think they left me?” She let go of his hands, her nails brushing against the tap. “Do you think Talon took me somewhere?”   
  
    He closed his eyes again, took a deep breath. This wasn’t real. Ana was dead, she had been for months. There was barely anything to look for aside from a corpse, if even that was left by now.   
  
    “Oh Gabe,” He could still hear her. “You’re not still blaming _them_ for what happened, are you?”   
  
    The water was much warmer now, hot, sticky. His eyes flew open to see blood coating his hands again. He gasped and stumbled back, hoping that banging his head against the wall would make it stop, but it didn’t. Red continued to rush out of the spout. He saw it creep over the edge, spilling onto the floor.   
  
    Gabriel slid down the wall, for a moment he tried press his palms against his head until he remember how much red their was. It clung to the side of his face and he pulled them back to stare at them. He tried to brush it away, against the floor, the towel, but it only spread. The color was crawling up his arms, inch by inch.   
  
    “Gabe,” Ana’s voice was calm as she stood over him. Blood was spilling out of her right eye. “Why’d you let it happen, Gabe?”  
  
    “I didn’t-”  
  
    “Why did you let them do this to me? Didn’t you save the world once?”  
  
    “Ana-”  
  
    “Why couldn’t you save me?”   
  
    The blood on the floor was inching towards him. Whispers seemed to emerge from it, a mess of voices he couldn’t hope to recognize. The slivers of red reached out like jagged fingers, ready to drag him away.   
  
    “Stop,” His voice cracked. He wrapped his arms over his chest, leaving a bright red streak. “Please stop, please-”  
  
    Gabriel screamed.  
  
    Jesse was through the door in an instant. The sound startled the Commander, almost making him reach for a gun that wasn’t even there. How the hell did the kid even get in here?  
  
    “Boss?” The cowboy’s eyes were wild with fear. “The hell happened?”   
  
    Gabriel looked forward again. Ana was gone. The sink was still running but the water was clear. All traces of blood on the floor had vanished and he found himself staring at his hands.   
  
    “Boss?”  
  
    “How’d you get in here?” He pushed himself up. Exhaustion was hitting him hard now. There was a slim chance he’d pass out on the bathroom floor.   
  
    “Uh, well, your door was unlocked.”   
  
    His footing almost slipped and he had to catch himself on the wall. Shit, damn, how did he manage to forget about that.  
  
    “Lock it.”  
  
    “Pardon?”  
  
    “Lock the door, now.”  
  
    “Uh, sure boss.”   
  
    Gabriel ran his still damp hands over his face. He had to get a grip. There was no critical reason to lock his door when he was in the room, was there?   
  
    He shut the sink off, trying not to look at the water droplets around the drain. He could already see them shifting colors. He glanced up at the mirror instead, a bloody handprint smeared over the spot where his face was.   
  
    He reached toward it.  
  
    “Doors are locked, boss.”   
  
    Jesse almost made him loose his footing all over again. He glanced over at the kid. He stood there up straight, stiff as a board but his eyes still laced with concern.  
  
    “Turn your communicator off.”  
  
    He opened his mouth but then closed it again, shutting the device down. He showed its black screen before putting it back in his pocket.   
  
    Gabriel sighed, knowing how crazy this all sounded in the back of his mind. “Thanks.”   
  
    “You got it boss, now what’s going on in here?”  
  
    He didn’t particularly want to tell Jesse that. Part of it was his instinct to protect the kid from this mess and the other part was him not wanting to admit there was a problem in the first place. So he was seeing things, big whoop. It wasn’t the first time in his life.  
  
    It was just the first time it was so damn red.  
  
    He mulled over his answer, keeping eye contact until something else got his attention.  
  
    That bandanna that McCree always wore around his neck. It was red. Gabriel rarely payed it much mind, the kid had been wearing it for so long, but the damn thing seemed like it was glowing, moving even. The glaring scarlet moved down, down, turning to liquid as it ran over the kid’s chest. The top of it suddenly tightened around his throat.   
  
    Gabriel’s hand shot out, desperate to get the material off him. The motion made Jesse panic, somehow snatching Gabriel’s wrist out of the air.   
  
    “What the hell? Boss what is going on?”   
  
    The material was back to normal now, or so it seemed. Gabriel tore his hand back and squeezed his eyes shut, begging the visions to stop if only for a few seconds. “Take the bandanna off.”   
  
    “Sure boss.”   
  
    The rustling of fabric took over the room, but the dripping shower head was still there. One drop and he was suddenly wondering if the kid was injured anywhere else.  
  
    No, Jesse was fine. He hasn’t been on a mission in a week.   
  
    “You ready to talk yet?” Jesse asked.   
  
    Gabriel glanced over to see the fabric was completely gone, no trace of red left. Maybe now it would stay that way.   
  
    “Do you want some food first? I brought it with me. Nibbling on something helps me when I’m seeing red.”  
  
    His blood went cold, hands falling to his sides as he stared at the kid. Jesse’s eyes were darting around the room, looking at everything but him.   
  
    “How did you know that?”   
  
    “My bandanna, similar colors just make it worse right?”  
  
    “But how do you know that?”   
  
    Jesse just shrugged. “What did you think was happening to me when I’d over use dead eye on a job?”   
  
    Gabriel’s throat went dry. He remembered all the time he found McCree huddled in the corner of his room or under the covers of his bed. He knew something was _wrong_ but Jesse just kept saying it’d pass.  
  
    “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?” He growled.  
  
    The kid shrugged again. “I’m used to it, you know? It always goes away, nothing for you to worry about.”   
  
    “I’m pretty sure my soldiers hallucinating is something for me to worry about.”  
  
    He shook his head. “If it got bad enough boss I would have told you. But what about you? First time?”  
  
    Gabriel scoffed and crossed his arms. He looked back at the mirror, the bloody streak still there. “At my age? Hardly. Just the first time it’s been so persistent.”   
  
    Jesse nodded. “Can you describe any of it?”  
  
    “Just blood, everywhere. Water keeps turning into it, keeps ending up on my hands.”  
  
    “Any people?”  
  
    Gabriel hesitated for a while. Ana reappeared in the corner of the mirror, grinning at him. He didn’t want to lie to Jesse, but there was no need to drag the kid farther into this mess. He knew how much it tore the cowboy up when Ana died.   
  
    “Don’t have to tell me the names.” Jesse added.  
  
    “Yeah, there’s a couple.”   
  
    “Alright, well I know food and a nap can do wonders for how bad it is anyway. Leftovers are a bit easier to handle.” Jesse ran back into the room, shouting. “The more cover your clothes offer the better. You already wear gloves so that’s not an issue.”  
  
    Gabriel’s shoulders went tense when he thought about the tan gloves Jesse always insisted on wearing after certain jobs. He’d always wondered about it, asked him why he didn’t use something more practical.   
  
    “Here,” Jesse came back and tossed Gabriel some clothes. A basic t-shirt, his hoodie and some sweatpants. “Dunno where you keep your gloves, but I’ll take care of your laundry in case you don’t have a lot of spares.”  
  
    “Jesse-”  
  
    “Don’t worry about it, boss.” The kid grinned at him. “Get changed. I’ll be right out here, okay? It’s just me in here, I promise.”   
  
    The door shut before Gabriel could argue. He stared at the bundle of clothes for a while. How long had he had this hoodie? He put it to his nose and inhaled, picking up the still lingering scene of Jack’s cologne.   
  
    He glanced back to see Ana still in the corner, still grinning.  
  
    “He’s a good kid, isn’t he?” She chimed.   
  
    Gabriel didn’t respond as he tugged the shirt out and pulled it over his head.  
  
    “He deserves better than you.”   
  
    Something hit the dresser in his room. His body went rigid, instinct screaming at him to get ready for a fight.  
  
    “Just me, boss.” Jesse shouted.   
  
    He exhaled. It was just the kid. He was the only one in here. He had Gabriel’s back. If there was someone here he would say so.   
  
    He tugged the rest of his clothes on as quick as he could and practically fled the bathroom. Jesse was still in his room, sorting through drawers. All the dirty clothes were stuffed in the hamper, the rest of his clothes folded and put away.  
  
    “The hell are you doing?” Gabriel muttered.  
  
    “Getting rid of clutters helps too, or at least helps me.”  
  
    “You never clean your room.”  
  
    Jesse laughed, “Yeah, I usually just hide under the covers. But going to a decluttered room helps.” He shut the drawers before grabbing a tray resting on top of it. “Come on, eat something. I promise it’s all good. You know I make a mean sandwich. Also found like five candy bars, dark chocolate, and some tea.”  
  
    Gabriel flinched. He shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets, feeling Ana’s eyes on the back of his neck. “What?”  
  
    Jesse’s smile fell. “Uh, you know, thought it might help your nerves.”  
  
    “She’s dead, McCree.”  
  
    “So?” The kid raised his voice. “Tea is still the same with or without her. You don’t gotta drink it.”   
  
    He sighed and ran a hand over his face. Ana’s hands ran up his back and he stepped away from the false contact. “No, it’s fine.”   
  
    Jesse’s frown lingered as he studied his expression. “You see her, huh?”  
  
    “I’m not gonna talk about it.”  
  
    “Yeah, that’s fine.” Jesse set the tray of food down. “Do you want me to stay here?”  
  
    “You don’t need to-”  
  
    “Do you _want_ me to.”  
  
    Gabriel sighed. “Outside the door, maybe.”  
  
    “You got it boss. I’ll make sure no one bothers you.” The kid flashed him one more grin. “Just holler if you need anything else, okay?”  
  
    The cowboy waved as he headed out, pressing the lock switch before he shut the door.   
  
    Gabriel hadn’t felt this relieved and safe in a long time.   
  
    Food was good, Jesse could make a mean sandwich after all, and he ate through the chocolate fast enough to make himself sick. He stared at the tea for a long time, too long, the smell of cinnamon burning his nose. Kid left the tea bag in. It was too damn strong by now.   
  
    “Just like old times, huh?” Ana sat on the bed now, stirring at her own cup of tea.  
  
    Gabriel shut his eyes and focused on the smell. She wasn’t real and Jesse was right. Tea was tea. He took a long sip, focusing on the flavor rather than the warmth of it. Blood carried no spices.   
  
    “Gabe,” Ana’s hand slid around the back of his neck like a snake. Maybe it was. That was somehow a preferable thing. He thought about the rattlesnake that made itself comfortable on his shoulder on Route 66. Thing never bit him, it just laid there until he tried to move, then it scurried back under the rocks.   
  
    “Gabe,” She kept whispering.  
  
    “You’re not real.” He growled as he finished off the tea.   
  
    That made the sensation vanish. He opened his eyes to find the room empty once again.  
  
    He put the tea mug on the dresser with the empty plates before he crashed onto the bed. He needed sleep. It’d all be better if he got some sleep.   
  
    Then the voices really started.  
  
    “Gabe,” Ana came back.  
  
    “Commander,” One of the soldiers who died just on this mission, Stephan.   
  
    Dozens more followed after, calling his name. He didn’t dare open his eyes. He knew if he did he’d just see them all standing over him, bleeding, covered in red.   
  
    But the sounds didn’t stop. Covering his head with his pillow did nothing to muffle it. The name calling turned into chattering. Were they talking to him? Each other? It didn’t really matter. He could barely make it out. It reminded him of the mass of sound when he walked into the crowded conference room, the soldiers rowdy from boredom. The voices came from all sides, melding together and moving around.  
  
    He didn’t dare open his eyes, but he couldn’t take this anymore.   
  
    Gabriel shot back up, keeping his eyes fixed on the door as he moved to it. Faces flashed in and out from both sides. He caught Stephan’s nervous smile but kept staring at the door.   
  
    When he opened it Jesse was right there, next to it. Gabriel had felt a flash of doubt, but the kid would probably stay there for twelves hours straight if Gabriel asked him to.  
  
    “What’s up?” His tone was so casual.  
  
    “Can’t sleep,” Gabriel muttered. “Too many voices.”  
  
    “Oh, well don’t worry. I’ve got something for that. Just give me five minutes okay? You can lock the door.”   
  
    Jesse took off down the hall. Gabriel thought about going back inside but he didn’t want to be in that locked room by himself right now. Instead he just pulled his hood over his head, tugging on the strings to make it tighter. He kept his hands tucked under his arms.   
  
    It only took Jesse three minutes. The kid was running back, obviously eager to show him something.   
  
    “Here, here,” Jesse shoved that tape player in Gabriel’s hand.  
  
    This ancient–god how old was it, almost a century?–device was something the crew had found when taking back a bunch of illegal weapons. Jesse had begged Gabriel to let him keep it. After the broken device was cleared he handed it over. It’s not like they had any use for it anyway.  
  
    But the kid managed to fix it up, get it back in working order. It was a rare moment he actually found a tape that worked in it, but sometimes the pawn shops had interesting things. By now he’d collected at least twenty of them, which was impressive considering how old the tech was.  
  
    “Here, it’s Classic Rock. I know you prefer the heavier stuff but it’ll do the trick. Headphones will block out the noise, music will block out the voices. Um, have you ever used this before?”  
  
    Gabriel shook his head.  
  
    “Play button, pause button, fast forward and rewind. This one is eject. I brought a couple of spare tapes in case you wanted to change it.” The cowboy stacked them on top. “Best part about this little thing is you can’t hack into it. It’s all yours.”   
  
    Hell, this kid thought of everything. For a few seconds Gabriel though he might cry. He at least wanted to hug him, but his hands were turning red again, smearing blood all over it.   
  
    He didn’t want to tarnish the kid anymore than he probably was.   
  
    “Thanks kid,” He sighed. “I’ll take good care of it.”   
  
    “I know you will, now go get some sleep.” The cowboy practically shoved him through the door.   
  
    But Gabriel blocked it before it could shut, “Jesse.”  
  
    “Yeah boss?”   
  
    He stared at the kid’s eyes for a few moment, shining and optimistic. Somehow they never lost their spark. He wanted to ruffle his hair, squeeze his shoulder, do something to remind himself that Jesse was his kid.  
  
    But he couldn’t touch him, not right now.  
  
    “ _Te quiero_ ,” He mumbled.   
  
    Jesse’s gaze softened, “ _Te quiero también_.”   
  
    Gabriel didn’t like the silence when the door shut. He turned slowly, taking in the sight of the empty room, waiting for something to emerge.   
  
    He quickly put on the headphones and hit the play button. Queen blasted through the speakers, a little loud, but he welcomed the volume as he collapsed on the bed once again.   
  
    He fell asleep before the first song was over.


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who knew something so blue could turn so red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PFFFFfff why is this so long jesus.......

    Jesse was right, sleep helped, food helped. Gabriel always kept his gloves nearby even when he was lounging around in case the situation called for it. Even a fingerless pair in the gym cut back a lot of it.  
  
    And sometimes it would fizzle out into the background completely, usually when he had plenty of downtime to recover.  
  
    But the paranoia never left him. He did his best not to fuel it, but anytime he wasn’t training recruits or doing paperwork he was digging through file after file, trying to find connections. Why were these missions going so sour? What really happened to Ana?   
  
    It was leading him to make some foolish decisions, some worse than others.   
  
    “What are we doing here again, boss?” Jesse was staring up at the high ceiling of the hanger in Overwatch’s HQ.   
  
    “I told you, I need to look into something. You didn’t have to come with.”  
  
    Jesse glanced at him, eyes darting to his hands that were fiddling with the strings on his hoodie. “Like to keep an eye on you to be honest, if that’s alright.”  
  
    “It’s fine,” Gabriel said as they headed inside. “You’re the only one I trust to watch my six anymore.”   
  
    The cowboy didn’t comment on that, sticking close behind him as they made their way inside. For some reason Gabriel half expected his ID card to stop working, but it still allowed him into every room.   
  
    He avoided most everyone there, especially considering he never really told anyone he was coming here today. Lena still managed to cut them off, chiming about what a surprise it was. She pulled Jesse into a hug and offered one to Gabriel who turned it down. He didn’t miss the disappointment in her eyes but it was swiftly replaced.   
  
    “If you two are still here this evening you should join me and Winston on the roof. We’re going to launch some rockets he built.”  
  
    “Did you get clearance for that?” Gabriel tilted his head.  
  
    “Pff, no,” She grinned.   
  
    “You know what? We might. I could do with a little rule breaking.”  
  
    “Yes,” She jumped.   
  
    “You invite Genji?” McCree rubbed at his neck, smitten idiot.   
  
    But Lena’s smile fell completely, eyes going wide. Gabriel wondered for a second if he was just seeing things again, knowing what it took to cause that kind of expression on her face.  
  
    “Did no one tell you?” She muttered.  
  
    No, when it came to Genji no one had told Gabriel a damn thing. Last thing he saw of the cyborg was him asking for clearance to visit the Overwatch base for a couple of weeks. Gabriel didn’t see why not. Most of their business with the Shimada clan was finished, the kid deserved a break.   
  
    But Jesse was the one who finally answered, “No? Told us what?”  
  
    “He’s gone,” She frowned. “Few days after he got here he up and vanished. No one can find him. I thought he might have gone back to Blackwatch but no one said anything.”   
  
    No, Genji certainly wasn’t there. God damn, kid saw the chance to run and he took it. It was much easier to flee an Overwatch base in the dead of the night than Blackwatch.   
  
    He wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Betrayed? No, it’s not like Genji owed him anything. His work for Overwatch was finished, kid had a right to get out before the shit organization tried to just use him for something else.  
  
    But he glanced over at Jesse, studying his eyes.   
  
    Maybe Gabriel didn’t feel quite as betrayed by all this, but he knew Jesse would.   
  
    “No one knows where he is?” Jesse tugged out his communicator, checking his messages.   
  
    “Not that I know of. I’m sorry Jesse.”  
  
    The kid laughed, obviously fake. “Nah, ain’t your fault. I guess if he wanted to leave he would. Just dunno why he wouldn’t... ah, nevermind.” He laughed again, turning on his heel and heading down the hall. “We’ll see you later, got some work to do.”   
  
    “Right,” She offered Gabriel a smile. “See you guys tonight.” A quick salute was her goodbye before she shot off down the hall.   
  
    Gabriel was quick to catch up to Jesse, acutely aware of his posture. The kid was scrolling through his communicator, obviously looking for something that wasn’t there.  
  
    “You okay?” He figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask.  
  
    “Fine boss,” He muttered and took a deep breath. “Or I’ll be fine, anyway. It was all temporary like you said.”  
  
    “Kid-”  
  
    “It’s fine.” He raised his voice. “I mean, course it was, didn’t mean much to him. If it did he would have said something right? Did he tell you anything?”  
  
    “No, he just asked for permission to leave.”   
  
    “Guess you gave it to him.”  
  
    Gabriel flinched at the tone.  
  
    “Sorry, that sounded harsher than I meant.” Jesse shoved the communicator back in his pocket. “I know it ain’t your fault.”   
  
    He sighed, squeezing the kid’s shoulder as they kept going. He was going to ask Jack about this, no doubt about it. As much as he’d like to avoid the Golden Boy this needed answers. How the hell did no one report to him that one of his men had up and fucked off?   
  
    When Gabriel removed his hand he swore he saw red out of the corner of his eye. Glancing over it vanished, but he took one step away from the kid just in case.   
  
    Didn’t want to see that color on him. Not now, not ever.   
  
\----------------------------  
  
    “So,” Jesse leaned on the back of the chair as Gabriel turned on the computer. He didn’t actually know who’s office this was, but it was empty for the time being. “What are we looking for today?”  
  
    “Files aren’t lining up.” Gabriel muttered. “Latest job I got wound up with two sources when I tried to trace it.”   
  
    Hacking was never his forte, or the most enjoyable activity, but he knew how. Using a basic office computer to get into an entire system was child’s play.  
  
    “If the orders came from here they’d be here, right?” Jesse pulled up another screen in order to run through the files.   
  
    “You’d assume, but the past few times I’ve come here I’ve barely found anything.”   
  
    Jesse hummed, “I’m starting to see your concerns.”  
  
    “Oh thank god, I’m not that crazy yet.”  
  
    He laughed, “Course you ain’t crazy boss. If you are then what does that make me?”   
  
    “I’m sure Jack could think of something.”  
  
    “Pff, Wonder Bread can go fall in a trench.”   
  
    Gabriel chuckled at the nickname, but his mood was cut off when his communicator buzzed. Shit, hadn’t he turned that off? He needed to turn that off. Almost anyone could access it, listen in on their conversation, use it to-  
  
    “Want me to turn it off?” Jesse cut in.  
  
    No, he should at least see what it was. Gabriel pulled it out, glancing at the message and the sender.  
  
    Jack.  
  
    > _Tracer just told me you’re on base??_  
  
    > _Please respond to this by the way. I’d like to know if you’re here._  
  
    “Well, speak of the devil and all that. It’s too bad he blocked me, I’d send him some annoying texts to distract him.”   
  
    Gabriel rolled his eyes and nudged Jesse back from reading over his shoulder.   
  
    > _Just doing some work, relax. If you want to look into it that bad I’m on the third floor._  
  
    He shut the computer down before standing back up.  
  
    “What’s up?” Jesse asked.  
  
    “Jack’s inevitably going to come up here. I don’t need him catching me snooping around in someone’s office.”   
  
    “Ah ha, I got it boss. Act natural.” Jesse tossed his hat off and plopped down in the chair. The kid cleared his throat when he sat up straight, propping his fingers over the keyboard. “Greetings commander, are you having a pleasant day?”   
  
    Gabriel laughed as he shoved him to the side. “That is far from natural.”   
  
    “Want me to drop to the floor and pretend to chew grass.”  
  
    “Kid seriously,” He covered his mouth with his hand, trying to force his laughter back.  
  
    But Jesse’s grin only widened. “What if I work up one of my undercover roles. Maybe Hugh Jass?”  
  
    “We never approved that name.”  
  
    “Oh come on, you know him,” Jesse let the his voice go up in pitch. “He’s yer country bumpkin who can’t quite tell what them city folks do at four in tha mornin’.”   
  
    Gabriel actually snorted before he threw back his head, laughing. He hadn’t laughed like this in a long time, and couldn’t manage to ask Jesse to stop.  
  
    “What are you two doing in here?”  
  
    Too bad Jack’s voice killed the mood immediately.   
  
    “Aw, nothin’ sir.” Jesse still had the voice going. “I was just nosin’ around is all.”   
  
    Jack rolled his eyes. “Get out of Cypress's office.”  
  
    “Ask nicely,” Jesse swiveled around in the chair.   
  
    Gabriel appreciated the sass but he didn’t want to drag Jesse into anymore trouble. “Come on kid, let’s go.”    
  
    “Sure thing, boss.” He shoved his cowboy hat back on, flicking it in Jack’s direction before he stood up.   
  
    The pair of them headed out and Gabriel avoided Jack’s gaze the best he could. While the color blue kept him calm, he didn’t want to give the jackass the satisfaction.   
  
    “Gabe,” Jack dropped the nickname, although his tone was anything but friendly. “What were you doing in there?”  
  
    “Goofing around,” Gabriel shrugged as he shut the door. “But I guess it’s been a while since you’ve done that, huh?”  
  
    “You expect me to believe that?”   
  
    He gritted his teeth as he grinned. “Well it seems like you don’t believe much I say these days anyway.”   
  
    The tension rose up two levels, Jack’s eyebrows pressing together.   
  
    “We already discussed this, Reyes.”  
  
    “You sure? Or was it just you dismissing everything I said because you don’t want to deal with it.”   
  
    “You need to stop doing this.”  
  
    “Well I won’t, not until I dig up what’s really going on.” He jabbed Jack on the chest. “All that shit aside, let me ask you something. When the hell were you going to report that Genji Shimada deserted his position?”   
  
    Jack’s face went paler, however that was possible. “You didn’t know?”  
  
    “I kind of don’t know shit if you don’t tell me, Jackie.” He glanced down, seeing red streaks showing up on Jack’s perfect blue uniform. It bloomed on his chest like a gunshot.   
  
    “But I did,” Jack raised his voice and slapped Gabriel’s hands away. “I did, I sent the message. What the hell happened to it?”  
  
    He could tell the strike commander wasn’t lying, but Gabriel never received any kind of message. Did someone intercept it? Great, just great, that’s what he needed to find out.   
  
    Who the hell didn’t want him to know Genji was missing?   
  
    “Might want to double check your security,” Jesse muttered.   
  
    “Stay out of this McCree.”  
  
    “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”  
  
    “Reyes, control your guard dog.”  
  
    “‘Scuse me?”   
  
    Their bickering faded out. Gabriel’s gaze was fixed on Jack, on his hands. Red, they were turning red. Bit by bit the color creeped up, dripped from his clenched fists on the floor. The stain on his chest was still growing, down to his stomach.   
  
    He glanced up at the spatter on his face, as if he’d just blown out someone’s brains from close range. It ran from his forehead down to his jaw, scattered over the bridge of his nose.   
  
    A drop of blood trailed down Jack’s cheek. Gabriel looked up at his eyes to see they had gone completely red. That bright blue he used to adore staring at in the early mornings was completely gone. Now they were dark, angry, violent, red so bright that it dripped out and ran down his face.   
  
    “Reyes!”  
  
    Jack’s shouting snapped him out of his trance, or at least he thought so. But all that blood was still there, like staring at a corpse.  
  
    He took a step back.  
  
    Jack frowned, “Is something wrong?”   
  
    “Peachy keen, Jackie.”  
  
    “You’re lying to me again.” The strike commander stepped forward.  
  
    “You don’t leave me a lot of options anymore.” Gabriel forced on his smile as he kept moving back. Jack was moving too fast. The blood from his face was running down his neck.   
  
    “Maybe if you’d be honest with me we could figure this out.”  
  
    “Tried that, didn’t take.”   
  
    Jack reached out, the tips of his bloody hands curling into claws. “Gabe-”  
  
    “Stay away from me.” He almost stumbled this time, desperate to get away. He knew it wasn’t real, he knew it wasn’t, but he couldn’t stop staring at it.  
  
    Jack was turning red. There was blood on his hands.   
  
    Gabriel couldn’t trust him anymore.  
  
    “Gabe-”  
  
    “I said stay away from me.”  
  
    Jack dropped his hand, letting it turn into a fist as he picked up his pace. “For fucks sake Gabriel-”  
  
    This time Jesse cut in, shoving between the two of them with his shoulders squared. Sometimes it was sobering to remember Jesse was as tall as him now, an inch taller than Jack.  
  
    “He said back off.” Jesse spat before he crossed his arms.   
  
    Gabriel stared at his shoulders, trying to get a grip on himself with all the blood gone. He wrung his hands together, feeling for it, but his black gloves revealed nothing.   
  
    “Step aside.” Jack said.  
  
    “Stay away from my commander.” The cowboy leaned forward.   
  
    “You don’t get to give me orders, McCree.”  
  
    “That wasn’t an order, it was a threat.”   
  
    Jesse didn’t even have his gun on him, but he could see the kid’s hand hovering over his back pocket where he kept one of his knives. Gabriel knew that the cowboy wasn’t kidding.   
  
    But if a fight broke out there’d be blood.  
  
    Too much red.  
  
    “Knock it off,” He ran a hand over his face. “Just stop this Jack, for fucks sake.”  
  
    “Then tell me what you’re doing here.”   
  
    “I’m not going to do that.” His fingers rested over his nose and he stared over them, barely able to make out Jack’s eyes with Jesse still between them.  
  
    Bright blue, brighter than a clear autumn sky. Even with everything going on he’d never missed a color so much.   
  
    “Then you need to leave,” Jack crossed his arms and looked away. “I can’t just let you run around here.”  
  
    “No can do,” Jesse said. “We promised Lena we’d be here tonight, you wouldn’t want to disappoint her would you?”   
  
    Jack glared at the cowboy, mouth pressed into a thin line. “You stay in the rec rooms or the training rooms, got it?”   
  
    “Yeah, fine,” Gabriel tugged on Jesse’s sleeve. “Just don’t follow us in there.”   
  
    He turned away to avoid Jack’s disappointed glare. He caught a glimpse of Ana staring at him the same way. Jesse seemed reluctant but followed after him, down the hall and toward the elevator.  
  
    “You okay, boss?” He whispered when they were out of earshot.   
  
    Gabriel wasn’t sure how to answer that. A no would be far too simple, there was too much shit spinning around in his brain.   
  
    “Never thought something so blue could turn so red.”   
  
    Jesse shoved his hands in his pockets, fiddling with the fabric. “Come on, let’s go get some food yeah? I mean if we’re being locked downstairs we might as well take advantage of it.”   
  
    Gabriel didn’t say yes or no to that, sticking to his silence as they rode their way down. Right now he was too preoccupied with ignoring the blood leaking through the bottom of the door.  
  
\--------------------  
  
    “Want to try one of these?” Jesse held up a cigarette, twirling it around in his fingers once. The pair of them had found the TV room completely empty at this time of day and decided to take advantage of it. Jesse had spent a good ten minutes removing any clutter and hiding the checkerboard.   
  
    “I thought I kicked you of that habit.” Gabriel took it anyway, holding it out for Jesse to light it.  
  
    “Like hell, I just know how to keep it on the down low.”   
  
    Knowing why the kid smoked as much as he did, Gabriel almost felt bad for trying to take them away. A nasty habit, but there was no question that they did the trick. He probably needed some outlet for this mess.   
  
    “If anyone catches us we’re totally getting kicked out.” Jesse laughed.   
  
    Gabriel just shrugged.  
  
    “So, how bad is it?” The cowboy leaned back on the sofa. “Cause earlier there it looked like you were going to pass out.”   
  
    “Took me off guard, it had been pretty quiet before then.” He rolled the cigarette between his teeth. “Then suddenly he’s got red all over him.”   
  
    Jesse didn’t seem to know how to respond to that, so he didn’t. He just pulled out another cigarette and lit it.   
  
    Gabriel usually wasn’t one to pry, at least not with things like this, but he wanted something to distract him.   
  
    “You see a lot of red on people?”  
  
    “Nah,” Jesse shook his head. “Mostly just on myself, my hands and my gun. It uh, well I’ve heard it talking to me before.” He laughed for a moment. “Usually I just see people I’ve killed, hovering around me like ghosts. Never say anything, just stand there watching me.”   
  
    Gabriel tried to imagine that for a moment, until he was afraid those people would actually appear. It was a miracle Ana wasn’t hovering over his shoulder. “We just racked up their numbers, huh?”  
  
    “Don’t blame yourself for that.” Jesse smiled when he blew the smoke into the air. “I knew the risks of using it when I joined.”  
  
    “How do you deal with it?” Gabriel hunched over when he crossed his arms. He was staring to feel sick. That entire bag of chips wasn’t settling like he wanted it to.   
  
    “Dunno that I do. Maybe karma will catch up with me one day, or not. But right now, it’s either them or me, and I ain’t ready to join them yet.” He puffed at the smoke coming from the end of the cigarette. “But you know, I’ve been doing this most of my life. I think my moral compass is a little skewed.”  
  
    “You deserved better, kid.”  
  
    “Hey now-”  
  
    “Sorry I couldn’t get you out of here.”  
  
    “Knock it off,” Jesse flicked him on the head. “I’m here cause I wanna be. I don’t wanna be anywhere else. The offer was to join Blackwatch but I took it because I wanted to help you, and I’m gonna keep doing that.”   
  
    Gabriel stared at him for a moment, catching his cigarette before it fell out of his mouth. “You know, before all this shit started, I considered making you second in command.”   
  
    Jesse choked on the smoke he just inhaled. “What? Come on boss I’m not-”   
  
    “You’re more than capable, Jesse. But with this mess going on I don’t want you in that kind of position. If something happens to me I want you to leave it behind and run as far as you can.”  
  
    “Hey, don’t talk like that.” The kid’s face hardened. “Nothing’s going to happen to you, not while I’m here, got it?”   
  
    Gabriel sometimes wanted to slap the cowboy for being as loyal as he was. He scoffed, inhaling some more smoke before he said something stupid.  
  
    “I’m serious,” Jesse continued. “You know I’d catch a bullet for you.”  
  
    He spoke through the cigarette. “Yeah I know. That’s what bothers me so much.” He took it out of his mouth, blowing the smoke up past his eyes. “I don’t want you doing something like that for me, kid. A parent should never have to bury their child.”   
  
    He wasn’t sure if he meant to say that, noting the shocked expression on Jesse’s face. It wasn’t the first time he’d called the cowboy his kid, hopefully wouldn’t be the last either. Perhaps their positions just made it easy to forget.   
  
    Jesse was loyal enough to die for Gabriel, but he wouldn’t let that happen. He refused. The kid still had a chance to do something worthwhile with his life.   
  
    If it was up to Gabriel he’d send the kid packing right now. Get him out of Blackwatch as soon as possible, onto a train to another country, but Jesse would never leave him.   
  
    Stupid kid.   
  
    “Well,” Jesse pushed himself up from the couch. “Before this gets anymore emotional we should think up a way for you to get back to the computers.”  
  
    Gabriel raised and eyebrow. “You serious?”  
  
    “Sure, just need something crazy enough to keep people distracted. You know that’s what I’m good at. In fact, I might have an idea.” He pulled out his communicator. “Mind if I turn this on?”  
  
    “Yeah, that’s fine.” Not like that kind of security would matter much in here. There were cameras and microphones almost everywhere.  
  
    Probably.  
      
    Jesse whistled while he waited for the device to boot up. Gabriel recognized it as the tune of “Don’t Stop Me Now” and found himself drifting off on habit. He’d used the cassette player so many times before bed all those songs made him sleepy.  
  
    The whistling stopped as he held the communicator to his ear. “Hey Tracer, what’s happening?” Jesse tapped his spurred heels a couple of times. “Yeah, yeah, I’m in the rec room with boss right now. But hey, I wanted to ask a favor. Do you think you can set those rockets off in like... I don’t know... ten minutes?”  
  
    Gabriel frowned. That was his plan? It’d offer a distraction sure but how long would it last?   
  
    “Yeah yeah, I know you’d be caught easier but that’s kind of the favor? We need to keep people busy, I’ll help.”   
  
    Lena’s chattering was just loud enough to come out of the speaker.   
  
    “Aw, thanks darlin’. I owe you like, ten boxes of biscuits.” Jesse was grinning before he made a face. “No, no, like your biscuits not my biscuits. The cookie things not the bread things. Yeah.”   
  
    Gabriel rolled his eyes.   
  
    “Alright, I’ll be up there in just a minute.” Jesse hung up and shut his communicator back down. “Well, I got a distraction.”  
  
    “You sure that’s going to work?”  
  
    “Trust me, we’ll cause such a mess up there no one is going to give a shit. I’ll tell Jack you took a nap and I ditched you to have some fun.”   
  
    “You think he won’t check on me?”  
  
    “I won’t let him.” Jesse grinned. “I’ll buy you thirty minutes, guaranteed.”  
  
    Gabriel decided to believe him.  
  
\--------------------  
  
    Looking at it now, thirty minutes was more than enough time when it came to looking for specific files.  
  
    Especially when those files weren’t even there.   
  
    It was just like he thought. The orders came from another source, one he couldn’t even manage to trace. There was no telling how many parties were involved in this mess.  
  
    He had to get to the bottom of it, somehow. He had to put a stop to this before it got worse.  
  
    He used the last twenty minutes of his time trying to find a lead, anything he could use. Mission logs, medical records, people’s afternoon e-mails, anything he could get his hands on.  
  
    He started finding something that didn’t add up with the medical files. There weren’t any details–since those were under another layer of security–but he recognized plenty of the names. A lot of them were his soldiers that were brought on base after being severely wounded in combat.  
  
    Most of them he never heard from again.  
  
    He’d always found that weird, knowing that their injuries were something that at least Angela could manage, but they refused to give him any detailed reports on what happened.   
  
    But now he had a list of names, the day they were checked in and the day they died.   
  
    Probably what bothered him the most about it is they were all looked after by the same three doctors. Did all this corruption even leak its way into the medical staff?  
  
    How far did this go?  
  
    He felt dizzy for a second, working on controlling his breathing. He couldn’t let his paranoia distract him right now. He had to keep track of the time.   
  
    He glanced down at the clock, five minutes.   
  
    Gabriel connected his drive to the computer and worked on saving as much of this data as he could. He needed to look into these names.  
  
    “Gabe?”  
  
    He jerked up at the voice, glancing at the doorway. Jack stood there, staring, eyes almost glowing from the light of the holoscreen.  
  
    “Jack?” He ripped the drive out, shutting down the computer, before standing up. “What- uh, what are you doing here?”  
  
    A stupid question, but a valid one. He still had four minutes. There’s no way McCree would have messed up.   
  
    “I was worried about you,” Jack shifted on his feet. “You’ve been acting so weird lately.”  
  
    “I already told you why,” Gabriel muttered, then wondered how Jack thought to look for him up here. McCree would have told him he was taking a nap.   
  
    Jack sighed, his eyes still glowing even without the holoscreen. He almost looked like a ghost in the unlit office. “I’m sorry.”  
  
    “What?” Gabriel stumbled for a moment.   
  
    “I haven’t been fair to you, right? I mean if you’re this desperate there must be something going on.”   
  
    Unease worked its way through his nerves. Something was wrong, off, but he couldn’t place if it was just his paranoia acting up again. “Didn’t think I’d ever get an apology out of you.”   
  
    Jack’s smile was sad and he stared at the floor. “I know, sorry for that too.” He glanced back up. “But now you’ve got me worried. We can’t keep arguing like this Gabe.”   
  
    Gabriel didn’t notice he was backing up until his shoulders hit the wall. “What, did a rocket show suddenly change your mind?”  
  
    Jack didn’t seem to register the phrase as he stepped forward. His steps were unusually light, quiet. His shadow was stretching forward, longer and longer as it crept toward Gabriel.   
  
    Something was wrong. This wasn’t a hallucination, was it? He’d never seen Jack before. Jack wasn’t dead.   
  
    He blinked. Jack was in front of him. Gabriel almost shouted, swearing the man had at least four more feet to go. But there he was, close, too close. Gabriel could see the different shades of blue in his eyes.   
  
    “Gabe,” Jack was practically whispering. Gabriel’s breathing stuttered to a stop as fingers gingerly brushed over his cheek, tracing his scars.   
  
    Wrong, this was all wrong. Something was wrong. He had to get out of here. He had to run. He had to get McCree.   
  
    But he couldn’t move. A small part of him didn’t even want to. Jack’s other hand rested on his chest, almost shoving him back.   
  
    “Don’t you miss this, Gabe?” Jack’s lips hovered over his.   
  
    He clenched his fists in an attempt to stop his shaking. Tears blurred up his vision, but Jack was still there.  
  
    Yes, god yes he missed this. There wasn’t a god damn day he didn’t think about it.   
  
    But those days were never coming back, not now. Even if he and Jack could somehow salvage their relationship it’d never be the same.   
  
    This wasn’t even Jack, snap out of it. It’s not real. It’s not real.   
  
    He still couldn’t move. His body felt paralyzed. The hand on his chest trailed down to his stomach. Jack’s nose bumped against his and he laughed.  
  
    Maybe it was real, could be. Hell, he could smell that familiar cologne by now.   
  
    No, he needed to snap out of it. Now wasn’t the time for damn fantasies like this.   
  
    “You’re not real.” He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ignore the other sensations plaguing him. “You’re not real.”   
  
    “Gabe,” It was such a soft, gentle whisper. The same kinds Jack would use to wake him up on lazy mornings, the smell of coffee already filling the room. “Gabe,” The kind of whisper he used on long flights back, face buried in his chest as he clung to the sleeves of his hoodie. “Gabe,” The sort of whisper that fell from his lips between breaths. Half-lidded blue eyes stared up at him when Gabriel pressed their foreheads together.  
  
    “Gabe,” The sound was addicting, something Gabriel knew he could listen to all night. The tension in his muscles was receding. Tears rushed down his cheeks now, seemingly brushed away by the mirage.   
  
     _I’ve got to get out of here._ His mind shouted.  
  
   _Don’t let this stop._ It argued back.   
  
    “Oh Gabe,” Their lips brushed together. If Gabriel wasn’t so paralyzed he’d try to grab Jack, shove him against the wall and kiss him with everything he had.   
  
    “I love you.”  
  
    Wrong.  
  
    Gabriel’s muscles went rigid again, alarms going off in his head. It was all wrong. Jack never said it like that, the rare moments he did. Gabriel only wished for it.  
  
    “Get off me,” He growled, trying to gain enough control to push his way through. Jack wasn’t there, he could make it to the door.   
  
    “Gabe.” There was pressure on his chest, either from Jack’s hand or his own panicking heart.  
  
    “I said get away.”   
  
    “Don’t you want-”  
  
    “Stop!” He lashed out, arm swinging around trying to elbow Jack in the head.  
  
    But it hit nothing. He opened his eyes to see the image was gone. The sensations on his skin vanished soon after.   
  
    He had to get out of here.   
  
    Trying to run toward the door failed. His legs felt like lead and his knees shook with every step. He desperately tried to control his breathing, get control of the pounding in his chest. He could hear blood roaring in his ears. The room was starting to spin.   
  
    He blinked and there was Jack again, standing next to the door. Blood was spattered all over his blue coat, leaking out of his eyes again.   
  
    “Gabe.”  
  
    Ignore it. Keep moving. He forced his legs to move despite the ache in his muscles.   
  
    “Gabe.”   
  
    He kept his eyes on the open door, the light from the hallway.  
  
    “Why did you hurt me?”  
  
    Gabriel turned his head to the right, staring at Jack. He could feel his body freezing in place before he bolted out of the room.  
  
    It didn’t do much good, Jack’s voice was following him as he walked down the hall. He tried to cover his ears, aware of the sticky sensation on his gloves. He jerked his hands down to see blood staining up the sleeves of his hoodie.   
  
   _“You really are some kind of monster.”_  
  
    “Shut-up.”   
  
   _“What did I ever see in you?”_  
  
    “Stop.” Attempting to rub the blood away obviously failed. He tucked his arms against his side and squeezed, trying to rival the pressure in his chest. He could barely breathe.   
  
     _“Is it any wonder you were sentenced to Blackwatch?”_   
  
    Tears burned at his eyes again and he picked up his pace, as if he could run away from a vision.   
  
    Then something grabbed his arm. “Gabe?”   
  
    He screamed when he spun around, just wanting all of this to end. He lashed out with his fist, hoping the result would at least give him a moment of silence.  
  
    To his surprise, it connected this time.   
  
    There was a sickening crack as Jack stumbled back, hand over his jaw. Gabriel could only stand there, frozen in horror. The strike commander slowly moved his hand away, blood already slipping past his lips.   
  
    “What the fuck, Gabriel.” The commander tried to glare but winced, covering his mouth again.   
  
    “Sorry,” He stuttered for the first time in years. “Shit, I’m sorry Jack I was- It...” He ran a hand over his face. There still wasn’t enough air in his lungs.   
  
    “Jesus, I swear you punch harder than ever before.” Jack moved his jaw around for a moment. “What was that for?”  
      
    “You surprised me.” Gabriel crossed his arms and backed up, just in case.   
  
    “I didn’t know you could be surprised.” He straightened up, still covering his bleeding mouth. “Gabriel, what’s going on?”  
  
    “I already told you I’m not-”  
  
    “I’m worried, alright?”   
  
    Gabriel flinched.   
  
    “Just look at yourself, you keep acting scared. I haven’t seen you this closed off in ages and I just saw you talking to yourself.”   
  
    “It’s none of your business.”  
  
    “Yes it is.” The strike commander stepped over. “I know... I know it’s all been awful lately, maybe most of it’s my fault I don’t know, but I’m really worried.”   
  
    Close, too close. Gabriel’s lungs froze again. He wanted to shove Jack away but was too afraid of hurting him.   
  
    “I don’t understand what’s going on, and maybe I’m not the one to help you, but this paranoia is getting worse. I’m scared you’ll do something you’ll regret.” He reached out toward him, slow and gentle.  
  
    But Gabriel tore back, able to glare this time. “Something I’ll regret? Or something you will.”  
  
    “Gabe-”  
  
    “Don’t call me that. Don’t ever call me that again.” Such a name was ruined for him now. “I honestly can’t believe you Jack, you know that? Do you honestly think all of this came out of nowhere? Do you really believe nothing is going on?”   
  
    “What could possibly be going on?”   
  
    “For fucks sake Jack, your message.” Gabriel suddenly gripped his shoulders. Jack winced, but didn’t make him let go. “What the hell do you think happened to that message about Genji.”  
  
    “Come on Gabe- Gabriel, computers glitch out all the time.”   
  
    “Oh sure, if that was the only one, but there’s more. So many of my orders are coming from unknown sources now, Jack. I can’t trace them.” He let go in order to throw out his hands. “I can prove it to you, even.”  
  
    “But it’s Blackwatch, surely they-”  
  
    “I should still damn well know where my orders are coming from. Don’t you get it Jack? Whatever Overwatch was, whatever it was meant to be, that’s not it anymore.” This time when he gripped Jack’s arms he was far more gentle. He tugged him closer, the soldier let him, their foreheads brushing together. “I know it hurts, but that’s the reality of it. There’s someone else pulling the strings, and if they keep doing it we won’t be able to fix it.”   
  
    “Gabriel...” Jack cringed, staring up at him. Doubt was still swimming in his eyes but there was a spark of something there. Gabriel just had to dig it out. He had to get Jack to believe him. There was no way he could do this alone.  
  
    He wanted his partner back.   
  
    “Come on Jack, let me show you. I’ll prove it.”  
  
    “I can’t-”  
  
    “Yes you can,” His grip tightened. “Jack, I’m begging you, open your damn eyes.”   
  
    “I can’t just tear apart everything we worked for.” Jack tried to pull back. “Gabriel, let go.”   
  
    “Not until you damn well listen to me.”  
  
    “Let go.”   
  
    Gabriel would have kept arguing, but that damn color appeared again. It bled out from Jack’s knuckles, flooding over his hands up to his elbows. The spatter across his face reappeared, but his eyes were still blue.   
  
    Gabriel lost his grip, taking a few steps back, blinking, willing for it to go away.   
  
    “What are you looking at me like that for?”   
  
    “You really can’t see it,” Gabriel muttered.   
  
    “Can’t see what?”  
  
    He actually laughed. He didn’t mean to. He pressed his palm to his forehead to stop the threatening tears. “You can’t see it. You can’t see all the blood on your hands Jack.”  
  
    The strike commander actually look down, eyes wide in fear, but it was obvious he didn’t see anything. “Gabe? You’re hallucinating.”  
  
    He kept laughing. “Am I? You know I’ve started to wonder that. Only shows up on guilty people you know. You just can’t see it. It’s all over you Jack. It’s all red.”   
  
    “Stop,” Jack looked afraid now. His step back made Gabriel realize he was moving forward. “This isn’t funny.”  
  
    “Isn’t it?”  
  
    “You need help.”  
  
    “Damn right I do, but you’re not offering right?” He jabbed his finger onto Jack’s armor. “You’d rather just sit in your office in a blindfold because that’s so much easier.”  
  
    “Gabriel-”   
  
    “You never want to think about the blood on your hands cause it’s so much easier.”  
  
    “Stop.”   
  
    “Your hands, your eyes, your face, it’s all over you Jack. When are you going to wake up and-”   
  
    The pain on his cheek was sharp. The force made him stumble to the side and he immediately reached up to cover it. The outline of Jack’s palm practically burned a hole in the side of his face.   
  
    He stared at the strike commander. The man’s breathing was off, eyes wild with fear and guilt. His hand still hovered in the air as he moved back.   
  
    Gabriel’s chest ached, like someone was digging into it with a spoon, trying to scrape out what was left of his heart.   
  
    “So, that’s your decision, huh?”   
  
    “Gabe-”  
  
    “I told you not to call me that.”  
  
    “I’m sorry,” Jack was stuttering. “I didn’t mean to-”  
  
    “Whatever, now we’re even.” Gabriel turned to storm off. It was obvious by now this conversation was getting nowhere.  
  
    “Wait. Gabriel wait!”   
  
    He spun around before Jack could grab his arm a second time. “What?”  
  
    For a while the strike commander said nothing, his hand hovering in the air. His eyes were swimming with fear and confusion, like he didn’t think he’d get the chance to speak.   
  
    But damn Gabriel’s soft core. He’d probably give Jack a hundred more.   
  
    Eventually Jack bit his lip and lowered his hand. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I could possibly do to help you.”  
  
    “Not calling me crazy would be a start.”  
  
    “I’m not,” Jack snapped. “But you can’t stand there and tell me this is all normal. You think there’s something going on? Fine, but clear your damn head first.”  
  
    It was just coming back to the same argument. Gabriel was getting so bored of the same old dance. “You know,” He leaned forward. “Maybe it wouldn’t have gotten this bad if you and Ana had helped me out back when I first noticed it.”   
  
    Jack’s gaze shot back up in a cold glare. “You leave her out of this.”   
  
    “No, I won’t.” Gabriel bared his teeth. “Do you have any idea how she died Jack? What happened to her?”  
  
    “No but-”  
  
    “Exactly, you don’t have a damn idea. Don’t you think that’s weird? Don’t you think it’s weird that her mission messed up so badly that no one got out alive? You don’t think that’s weird?”  
  
    “Mistakes happen.”  
  
    “That was no god damn mistake.” Gabriel took a step forward, shoving Jack back with one hand. “That mission was probably a set up. She was sent there just to be taken out.”  
  
    Jack slapped Gabriel’s arm away. “You can’t know that.”   
  
    “Of course I damn well can. I run the Black ops division. Silencing people is what we _do_.”   
  
    The strike commander didn’t seem to have an argument for that. His blue eyes darted around as he bit his lip again.   
  
    “Or maybe that’s it,” Gabriel muttered. “You do know that’s what happened. That’s why you’re keeping your nose out of it. You’re scared they’ll come after you.”  
  
    “What?” Jack shouted. “Come on Gabriel, that’s the most insane thing you’ve said.”   
  
    “Is it? I’m trying to think of another reason you refuse to look into this.” He took a step forward. Jack backed away. “I’m trying to think of why my friend, _my partner_ , would be turning his back on me like this.”   
  
    “You’re the one who shut me out.”  
  
    “Because you stopped listening to me. What, you get a fancy new job and suddenly it’s too much work to keep up with me?” Gabriel stopped.  
  
    Hell, that was it, wasn’t it? Everything started going downhill between them when Jack got that promotion. Gabriel hadn’t minded him strutting his feathers for a while there, a part of him believed Jack earned it.   
  
    But it was just a ploy, maybe a tactic from the higher ups. All Jack cared about anymore was this damn job, his position, this organization that at this point was rotting from the inside out.   
  
    “Hell,” He exhaled, breath shaking. He could see Jack’s eyes shimmering from oncoming tears. “You know, I always thought you were the kind of guy who’d toss everything aside to protect what was important to him.”   
  
    “And you don’t now?” Jack rubbed his palm over his mouth.  
  
    “No, I still do. Problem is, at some point, you decided that throne of yours was more important than anything else.”   
  
    The commander flinched. “Gabe that’s not-” His startled expression shifted to rage. “That’s not true.”   
  
    Gabriel stared down at Jack’s boots. Blood soaked the bottom of them, splattering upwards.   
  
    He heard Jack sniff before the commander turned away from him, arms crossed. “Get off my base, Reyes. Get the hell out. And take your god damn mutt with you.”   
  
    Gabriel gritted his teeth. “He has a name.”   
  
    “I don’t care,” Jack snapped, obviously losing whatever battle he was having in his own mind.  
  
    Gabriel felt tempted to punch him again, hit him in the back of the head, throw him on the ground. Instead he turned around. “No, you really don’t, do you?”   
  
    Jack didn’t say anything else as Gabriel made his way down the hall, searching for the closest safe space to hole himself up in. He could feel the oncoming panic, see Ana drifting past his vision multiple times. He didn’t dare look anywhere but forward.   
  
    His first escape was the bathroom, practically stumbling through the doorway. He waited until it shut, until he was certain no one else was in here, before he slid down to the floor.   
  
    The tears came on fast. There was no hope of stopping them this time around. He buried his face in his knees, keeping his eyes shut in case they started playing tricks on him again.   
  
    Damn Jack. Gabriel knew he shouldn’t care this much anymore but it seemed impossible to stop.   
  
    He just wanted it to stop.  
  
    He figured the tears wouldn’t last long but his uneven breathes almost gave way to a panic attack. He tried desperately to hold himself together, at least long enough to get his communicator up and running.   
  
    Jesse. He had to talk to Jesse. He needed someone to anchor him, quick.   
  
    > _Kid where are you?_  
  
    He prayed the kid remembered to turn it back on. He scrolled through old messages while he waited, focusing on the words on the screen instead of the ones being spoken next to him.   
  
    > _Lol, kind of got put in an interrogation room with Lena and Winston for causing trouble. You okay?_   
  
    > _No._   
  
    The response only took a few seconds.   
  
    > _Where are u right now?_  
  
    > _Third floor, bathroom in the right wing._  
  
    > _Be there in five._  
  
    He should be scolding Jesse for breaking out of an interrogation room. He knew that letting him do so would just cause more trouble. Instead he amused himself with the image of the guards desperately trying to catch the gunslinger. Not much could get in Jesse’s way when you gave him a job.   
  
    Then the screen went dark, slipping into sleep mode from inactivity.   
  
    Red.  
  
    Everything flashed on red the second the calm blue light vanished. His sleeves, his gloves, his boots, the floor beneath them. He scrambled up, trying to get away from it, but he could feel it on the wall too.   
  
    His cheek hurt again, itched even. He glanced over at the mirror, staring at the spot where Jack slapped him. A bloody handprint was smeared across the left side of his face, glaring red.  
  
    He stumbled over to the sink, trying to get a closer look, but the sticky sensation on his arms got worse. Every brush of fabric made his skin bristle. He tore the gloves off to relieve the sensation, but it didn’t do any good.  
  
    Red. His hands were so red. The color flowed over his skin as he rolled his sleeves up.  
  
    “Not real,” Gabriel gripped the edge of the sink. “It’s not real.”  
  
    The words didn’t keep it from burning, even when he closed his eyes. It’s like the blood was latching onto every nerve ending, igniting it.  
  
    Scratching at it did nothing. He turned on the faucet, ice cold, letting it wash over his hands. The chill made it go quiet but now the color coated the sink, rushing down the drain. He scrubbed at his palms, desperate to make it vanish.  
  
    “Water never washed a man’s sins away.” Ana stood behind him, a bloody smear covering her face. He tried to focus on the water, turning redder by the second. Just don’t look at her. Look anywhere else.   
  
    He never heard the door open. In fact, he heard nothing but running water until a hand brushed against his shoulder.   
  
    Gabriel whirled around, spraying water onto the wall.  
  
    “Just me, boss.” Jesse held up his hands.  
  
    Gabriel couldn’t properly reply with how heavy his breathing was. He didn’t move as Jesse reached past him to turn off the sink.   
  
    “What’s going on boss?” The cowboy glanced down. He reached out for one of Gabriel’s hands, silently asking for permission.  
  
    “Won’t go away,” He growled and held up his wrist. Jesse studied it, those tan gloves making it burn again.  
  
    They were turning red too. Gabriel almost tore away.  
  
    “Well, let’s not hurt yourself. “ Jesse let go.   
  
    “It burns.”  
  
    “Yeah?” The cowboy glanced around the room. “Those are always the worst. Hey, what’s on that painting behind me?”  
  
    Gabriel had done this exercise before. “It’s a cheap replica.”   
  
    “Okay but what’s on it?”  
  
    “Train, just one car on a track. They extend out to the horizon. The sunset looks shitty.” He never figured out who’s bright idea it was to decorate the bathrooms in this place. It was a military base, not a hotel.   
  
    Jesse laughed. “What color is the guard’s keychain?” He held up the set of keys and security cards. Dangling from it was a plush, pink cat. Gabriel took a moment to decide if Jesse had stolen the keys before or after he got locked up. His pick pocketing habit never really left.   
  
    “Who owns these?” He wound up frowning at it.   
  
    “Just answer the question.”  
  
    “Pink.”   
  
    “Still see red?”  
  
    Gabriel blinked and glanced around. Nothing but grey walls and white ceiling. “Not right now.”  
  
    Jesse nodded.  
  
    “No one else in here, right?”  
  
    “Just us, boss.”  
  
    “Communicator off?”  
  
    The cowboy held up the inactive device.   
  
    Gabriel stared at it for a moment before another rush of emotion hit him. He sat back down on the floor, his head bumping against the sink cabinets.  
  
    “I’m sorry,” He mumbled. “I know this is all crazy.”  
  
    “It’s fine,” Jesse sat across from him. “Rather you just feel safe right now, boss.”  
  
    “I can’t feel safe in this damn building.”  
  
    “Wanna leave?”  
  
    “Not right this second.” He sniffed and wiped his eyes.  
  
    Jesse studied him for a while, jangling the keys between his hands. “Did Morrison find you?”   
  
    “I’m not talking about it.” Gabriel growled, more angry at the oncoming tears.   
  
    “That’s okay.”  
  
    “It’s not my fault,” He spat out anyway. “He doesn’t listen anymore. I can’t make him listen.”  
  
    “It’s okay.”  
  
    Gabriel clutched the sides of his head. “No, it’s not! I’m losing him, Jesse. All those years and I’m losing him.”  
  
    “Hey...”  
  
    “And it hurts,” He sputtered. “Why did he stop trusting me?”  
  
    “Papá.”  
  
    The nickname force him to look back up at the kid. He said nothing, eyes sad as he held open his arms.   
  
    “It’s okay.”  
  
    “No it’s not,” Gabriel rubbed his eyes again. “I need to get my shit together.”   
  
    “It’s okay,” Jesse insisted and tugged him into the hug. “No one here but us. It’s okay.”  
  
    Gabriel’s memory shot back to when this kid was only eighteen. It was a tough job. Three agents died and the kid would have joined them if the rest of the team hadn’t swarmed in. He was spaced out the rest of the time, staring at nothing. But Gabriel caught his lip quivering. The second they were alone he pulled the kid into a hug.  
  
     _“It’s okay. I’ve got you.”_  
  
    That was the final nail in that coffin. He clung to Jesse’s shirt and let himself sob.   
  
    He lost track of time. All he knew was that his eyes stung and his throat had gone dry. Jesse never moved, didn’t even say anything. Even when it stopped Gabriel didn’t let go. He could feel Ana watching him.   
  
    “Didn’t bring your tape player, did you?”  
  
    “Eh, left it in the ship.”  
  
    “Well it doesn’t do much good in there.” Gabriel pulled back so Jesse could see his joking smile.  
  
    “Sorry boss, I could sing if you like.”  
  
    “I’m not sure that-”  
  
    Too late. “Is this the real life?”  
  
    “Really? That one?” Gabriel hid his smile behind his palm.  
  
    Jesse grinned. “Is this just fantasy?” He held out his hands, waiting.   
  
    Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality.”  
  
    Jesse’s smile widened as he joined in.  
  
    “Open your eyes. Look up to the skies and see...”


	3. Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reaper preferred his time in the dark these days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pffff I'm glad you guys are enjoying this. This is the last bit, or the last bit I had planned out, but I probably have a lot more hcs for this rly
> 
> Thanks for reading either way!
> 
> WARNING: Not a huge one but there's a brief moment of torture in here involving chemicals, it's at the end of the second scene and that's it but letting you know just in cases

    Reaper still remembered how he died.  
  
    It was a cruel twist of fate really. He’d always heard when you go everything turned black. But for him, pinned under cement, the last thing he saw was flames.  
  
    Then red. Nothing but red.  
  
    Why he preferred his time in the dark these days. Not only did it act as a cover, but it washed out any colors.  
  
    Among other things.  
  
    Biology lab, that’s where he was right now. The room was empty, lights off apart from the lamps over a row of plants and a single lizard tank. The green creature sat out on its rock, watching him.  
  
    Reaper did nothing but stare back.  
  
    There was nothing else to do at the moment but wait for his target. His new ally not only made breaking in easier, but he didn’t even have to dig through the computers. It was already done.  
  
   _“There’s nothing in here.”_ Sombra complained over the comm. _“Nothing useful anyway. I did find out he’s been flirting with a much younger co-worker.”_  
  
    “Irrelevant,” He moved away from the tank, studying the plants instead.  
  
   _“Maybe, but I’m saving these. I mean,”_ She laughed. _“Who even says things like honey-buns these days?”_  
  
    Reaper didn’t comment, not wanting to encourage her. Then again her voice was a welcome distraction.  
  
    He glanced back at the dark part of the room. Nothing was visible outside of the metal counters reflecting the light from the lamps.  
  
    No people. No voices. Just him.  
  
     _“Oh,”_ Sombra chimed back in. _“Target’s back from dinner, alone. He even got leftovers. You gonna bring me those?”_  
  
    “Sombra.”  
  
     _“Thanks Gabe. Want me to record your fight?”_  
  
    “No, shut down the cameras.”  
  
     _“Ah, sí, sí, I guess it won’t be much of a fight anyway.”_  
  
    There was always static when he shifted. He floated up and through the vent, hovering over the next room. It was pitch black as well, not that it mattered. He could deal without a visual as long as Sombra shut off the power.  
  
    The door opened, automatically turning on all the lights. More than enough time to get a visual of the room.  
  
    It all went black again, the door slamming shut. The target cursed, the sound of a plastic bag hitting the floor.  
  
    Reaper moved down, completely silent as he drifted behind his target. The man’s face lit up from his phone screen, tapping away at it. His glasses sat low on his face, reflecting the light and making it hard to see his eyes.  
  
    With his body reformed, Reaper drew one of his shot guns.  
  
    “Boo,” He growled out, grinning.  
  
    The man spun around, dropping his phone. He didn’t get the chance to scream before Reaper slammed the shotgun against his temple.  
  
    The target hit the floor.  
  
   _“Aw, did you kill him already?”_ Sombra whined.  
  
    “No.”  
  
     _“Oh good. Make sure you ask about his choice in pet names.”_  
  
    He sighed and shook his head, reaching for the target.  
  
     _“What food does he have?”_  
  
    “Sombra.”  
  
   _“Come on, he’ll be out for a while just tell me.”_  
  
    Reaper wished he could throw something at her. Instead he let go of the man’s arm, picking up the bag from the floor. A familiar smell came over him, although he wasn’t sure from where.  
  
    “Leftover fries, with uh, vinegar.”  
  
     _“No!”_ She shouted. _“Ugh, of course he has shitty taste in food ugh. Whatever, is the vinegar on them? I want those fries. I can make seasoning.”_  
  
    “Sombra, focus on the mission.”  
  
     _“Sí, sí, sorry Gabe.”_  
  
\-----------------------  
  
    It took the target far too long to wake up, now tied down to a metal chair. Reaper hadn’t hit him that hard. He surveyed the damage, the wound on his head was barely bleeding, but his glasses had cracked from the impact. His phone was in no better condition, the screen broken from its drop on the floor. At least it was still working.  
  
    He snooped around the lab while he waited, pharmaceuticals were always useful for something. He used the light from the phone to read labels of pill bottles. Endless lines of painkillers and healing boosters that were still under testing. For a moment Reaper questioned who they were testing it on.  
  
     _“Hey,”_ Sombra pestered him. _“Give me access.”_  
  
    “Focus.”  
  
     _“Come on, I gotta see his photos.”_  
  
    Reaper rolled his eyes and turned on the wi-fi for the phone before he turned to the shelf of ingredients instead.  
  
    The target stirred, groaning as the chair shifted around. Reaper ignored it for the time being, still reading labels.  
  
     _“Oh, there’s some great beach photos in here.”_ Sombra snickered, _“Want to see?”_  
  
    “I’m working.”  
  
    “Who’s there?” The target yelled. The chair squeaked as it rocked back and forth on the tile.  
  
    Reaper sighed as he put the bottle down and turned off the light. He hovered over to the target, reaching out and gripping his shoulder.  
  
    “Stop moving.”  
  
    The man froze, trying to turn around and look but Reaper vanished again.  
  
    “Who are you?”  
  
    “I’m not answering that, doc.” He reappeared in front of the shelf, picking through bottles. “Not until you tell me who you are first.”  
  
    The scientist huffed, struggling with his bonds again. “If you’re after me, I’d assume you’d already know that.”  
  
    “Humor me,”  Reaper pulled a pair of bottles down.  
  
    “Just kill me.”  
  
    “Oh, make no mistake, that’s on my to do list.” The mercenary hovered back over, putting the bottles down. “But I need answers.”  
  
    “No point in talking if I’m going to die anyway.”  
  
    “Come now,” He grinned again as he circled the chair. “I’m certain you know the difference between a slow death and a quick one.”  
  
    The man looked surprised before he glared.  
  
    “After all, you were one of the top doctors on the Overwatch base.”  
  
    The surprise returned. The doctor struggled with words.  
  
    So Reaper continued. “Doctor Steinson. Joined Overwatch after the omnic crisis and stayed on until it was disbanded.” Reaper moved to the desk in the corner. No picture frames, strange. He tapped his claws on the edge of it. Flashes of red appeared on the pens.  
  
    “If you know all this, what do you want from me?”  
  
    “A confession.”  
  
    Steinson snorted. “Confession? For what?”  
  
    “Nikol Walters.” Reaper fiddled with the pens in the mug. A few had company names and he plucked them out. “Allegra Jepson. Galit Solberg. Ingeburg Yuen.”  
  
    “Hey,” The doctor’s voice shook. “What are you doing?”  
  
    Reaper turned to look at him. It was too dark to see his face. He pulled out the phone, turning the light back on. The doctor flinched from the brightness but the fear was still clear on his features.  
  
    “Sound familiar?” Reaper taunted as he stepped closer. “Marko Kunze. Mien Bukoski.”  
  
    “Stop.” Steinson shouted and tried to push himself away.  
  
    “Patients of yours, right?” He flipped through the phone. Sombra had already sent him the files he needed. He swiped them up onto the holo screen, all of them. Dozens of images sprang up, every single one with a photo attached. “Amalthea Pensak. Helga Huxley.”  
  
    “What of it?” The doctor interrupted.  
  
    “Deceased,” Reaper tapped one. The red words glared over the text. “Every single one.”  
  
    “So? They were injured during combat. There was nothing I could do.”  
  
    His laughter started in the back of his throat, echoing through the room. He studied the doctor again, waiting.  
  
    For a moment it was a trick of the shadows, but the sleeves of his lab coat were turning red.  
  
    “Find that hard to believe, you know. Their injuries should have been easy to fix with your tech.” Reaper put the files away and stepped closer. “And since they were all your patients, I’m asking you, what happened?”  
  
    The man tried to spit at him. “I already told you.”  
  
    “No, you lied to me.”  
  
    “You can’t prove that.”  
  
    Reaper hand snapped out, claws digging into Steinson’s chin as he forced his head back. The man’s body went rigid.  
  
    “You know what I think?” Reaper let smoke drift out of his mask as he hovered close. “I think you killed them. No, I know you did. The question I have is why. Who gave you the order?”  
  
    “I don’t know what you-”  
  
    He dug his claws in deeper, drawing blood. It matched the color splattered on his shoulders. “One more lie and I start pulling teeth. That or I play chemist with all the bottles on that shelf.”  
  
    Steinson seemed to consider his options. He glanced back and then down at his chin.  
  
    “I don’t know.” He sighed.  
  
    “Alright doc, open wide.”  
  
    “I don’t.” He tried to trash his head to the side. “I didn’t know who it came from, there was just a list.”  
  
    Reaper considered this and let go.  
  
    Steinson took a few deep breathes, shifting his jaw. “There was a list of names, a lit of targets. Different people were to take them out. If any of them came to us, it was our job.”  
  
    “Talon, I’m guessing. How did they rope you in?”  
  
    The doctor snorted and grinned. “I was there from the start. Since the end of the omnic crisis. When the UN decided to build Overwatch higher we had to interfere.”  
  
    “Afraid of a powerhouse, huh?”  
  
    The grin gave way to confusion. “Sure, something like that.”  
  
    Reaper straightened up and turned around.  
  
    “We weren’t wrong.” Steinson shouted after him. “It should have ended a long time ago.”  
  
    “I don’t care.” The mercenary glanced back. “Overwatch, no Overwatch, I couldn’t give less of a damn.” He shifted into a shadow, sliding across the floor before he reformed behind the chair. “But I can’t find it in me to forgive someone who murders my agents.”  
  
    The doctor tried desperately to turn around. “Reyes?”  
  
    He chuckled as he leaned over, a hand sliding under Steinson’s chin. “Howdy.”  
  
     _“Did you really just say that?”_ Sombra muttered.  
  
    Reaper ignored her, plucking up one of the bottles and snapping the cap off.  
  
    “How did you survive that explosion?” Steinson seemed to be unaware of his position, glaring at him again.  
  
    “Not sure I did, and besides, I’m much more interested in what you used to kill those agents. I suppose you do have the drug know how to make it untraceable.”  
  
    The doctor looked like he was going to respond, but glancing to the side he noticed the bottle, slowly tilting down.  
  
    “Stop,” He twisted his head to the side. Reaper tightened his grip. “Stop!”  
  
    “I wonder,” Reaper breathed into his ear. “If they said something like that to you too.”  
  
    Steinson was whimpering now, still trying to struggle free. The mercenary looked down. Red was slowly climbing it’s way up the sleeves of the lab coat.  
  
    “You’ve got blood on your hands, doc. Now what should be done about that?”  
      
    He tilted the bottle down. Liquid hit Steinson’s eye with an audible hiss.  
  
    He screamed.  
  
\----------------------  
  
    “Was all that really necessary, Gabe?”  
  
    Reaper made the mistake of looking at Jack. The hallways were still lit. He never told Sombra to power them down. He figured it would be quick to step out of the building–since he couldn’t phase out while carrying food.  
  
    His old partner, friend, whoever he was now, always appeared so young. The uniform he wore was back from their days in SEP. His eyes were bright, naive, oh so naive.  
  
    Reaper didn’t respond to the illusion. It never did any good to argue with it. Jack would stand there, follow him around, question everything he did, but it all went in circles like a horrible loop.  
  
    But he could deal with the stupid young soldier, that was easy. It’s when he turned red, screaming accusations at him, that it became harder to ignore.  
  
    Ana didn’t appear anymore, just Jack.  
  
    “Come on Gabe, brighten up will you?” The soldier was walking next to him. “Rough job, but you did it right? You always do.”  
  
    Ignore him. He’s not real.  
  
    Where was Sombra’s shitty banter when you needed it?  
  
    “You’re so amazing, you know that?” Jack was grinning at him now, that old gap in his teeth showing. Gabriel used to find it so endearing, but it wound up getting erased when he was promoted to Strike Commander.  
  
    Poster boy has to look pretty for the photos.  
  
    He stopped walking, even with the exit door already open. He just stared at that grin, etching it back into his memory.  
  
     _“You’re doing it again.”_ Sombra cut in, their ship landing down in the parking lot. _“At least get out of there first. I want my fries.”_  
  
    Reaper forced himself away from the illusion, knowing it wouldn’t go away right now. Jack never did after a mission.  
  
    He climbed onto the ship, practically throwing the bag in Sombra’s direction before he went to hide in the back. He took his comm out for good measure, although Sombra would likely just announce things over the ship if she didn’t want him to ignore her.  
  
    For a while she left him in peace, taking her time to pilot them out of there, miles away from their target. Reaper practically huddled in a corner, shifting his form to melt into the wall. Jack was still watching him, looking around the ship like a curious child.  
  
    Not real. Not him.  
  
    The mercenary pulled something out, letting his arms stay solid enough to hold it. It might as well have been a brick of plastic, the clear part of it cracked. The hinge wouldn’t shut properly anymore and the device groaned whenever he tried. A pair of red headphones dangled down from it, one of the foam pads had gone missing.  
  
    His finger hovered over the play button, wishing it would work.  
  
    But it wouldn’t.  
  
_“Boss? I know you’re upset but you need to-”_  
  
_“You don’t know anything Jesse! Can’t you see what’s going on?”_  
  
_“It’s not real.”_  
  
_“Then why won’t it go away?”_  
  
_“Breath, come on, it’s alright. We’ll figure it out okay?”_  
  
_“Get out of my office.”_  
  
_“No, I can’t leave you alone like this.”_  
  
_“I said get out.”_  
  
_“Boss I can’t-”_  
  
_“Get out!”_  
  
    He hadn’t really meant to, thinking about it. He just grabbed the closest object and hurled it at the wall. The plastic made a sicking crack and Gabriel swore he could hear Jesse’s heart breaking along with it.  
  
    The tape player was in pieces, shattered on the floor like everything else in his life.  
  
    Gabriel thought about apologizing, he was sorry after all, but in the end he thought it’d be better if the kid finally cut ties with him. Maybe that would be enough.  
  
    He even tried to repair it himself, but he couldn’t make heads or tails of it. What he held in his hand was as far as he’d gotten.  
  
    The tape for Queen still sat inside. Their band name was faded now, red pen written on a piece of white tape.  
  
    He tried to run the songs through in his head.  
  
    “Oh? _Qué es esto_?” Sombra suddenly snatched it out of his hands. Damn kid had her cloaking device on.  
  
    “Sombra,” He warned as he fully reformed, towering over her.  
  
    “Come on now, it looks neat. Tell me what it is.”  
  
    “Give it back.”  
  
    “I will when you tell me. I mean, I know it’s a tape player.” She smiled and tapped the buttons. “I’ve studied some old tech before, but I’ve never actually seen one. Where did you get it?”  
  
    Reaper would have snatched it out of her hands if he didn’t think it would make the damage worse. “Give it back.”  
  
    “No,” She waved it side to side. “Not until you tell me where you got it from.”  
  
    Reaper sighed and crossed his arms. “McCree gave it to me.”  
  
    “Eh? Really? Of course the cowboy owned something like this.” Sombra turned it around in her hands. “Fits with his theme.”  
  
    He raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”  
  
    “You know, cowboys and their old tech.”  
  
    “Sombra, tape players weren’t invented until a hundred years later.”  
  
    “ _Qué_? No way.” She pulled up her holoscreen, searching for the facts. “But these things are ancient they- oh wow, huh. You’re right.”  
  
    “Give it back.” He held out his hand.  
  
    “Sí, sí,” She dropped it onto his palm.  
  
    He didn’t hesitate to retreat, on the off chance she tried to steal it back. Turned out her pick pocketing habit was almost as bad as McCree’s was.  
  
    “You know,” Sombra plopped down on one of the seats. “I bet I could fix it for you.”  
  
    Something actually stuttered in his chest when he turned to look at her. She had that smug smile on her face, knowing yet again she held all the cards.  
  
    “And why would you do that?”  
  
    “Aw, come on Gabe, can’t I help out a pal now and then?”  
  
    “No, you don’t do favors, you trade.”  
  
    “True,” She blew some of her hair away from her face. “But look, I’m serious. I’ll fix it up for you. I bet I could.”  
  
    Of course she could. Even if she didn’t have experience with tech this old there was no doubt she could find the answers and the parts she needed.  
  
    “What’s the catch?”  
  
    “No catch,” She held up her hands. “Honest, in fact, if you let me, maybe I’ll find some free time to dig into the person who issued McCree’s bounty.”  
  
    He froze. She was definitely up to something. The deal they currently had kept any files on McCree out of Sombra’s database, as well as deleting a lot of the ones from news sources to keep his trail clean. She did that to keep Reaper from interfering in any of her other plans.  
  
    Most days it didn’t matter, but others it was endlessly frustrating that this brat was pulling all the strings.  
  
    The fact that she was suddenly offering all this had to mean she wanted something else.  
  
    “What do you want?” He growled.  
  
    “I just said I don’t-”  
  
    “Stop lying to me.”  
  
    Sombra frowned at him, pulling a face before mimicking his speech. “Fine, there’s some new Vishkar tech I want, alright? I know how to get in but I need some extra fire power. I’ll fix the tape player now. You get me that tech and I’ll dig into McCree’s bounty. Deal?”  
  
    Reaper studied her eyes for a moment, too serious. She always had a playful glint when she made offers. She was still hiding something.  
  
    She must have noticed, rolling her eyes. “Also, you know, that tape player is something that helps you right?”  
  
    “What?”  
  
    “You suffer from hallucinations, sí?”  
  
    He took a step back. When the hell had she figured that out?  
  
    “They didn’t hide your files very well. There was a report in there about you being prescribed anti-psychotic meds at one point.”  
  
    He’d tried to forget about that mess. After some coaxing from McCree he decided to try it, something to ease up the hallucinations, but his system was too different due to the SEP. The drugs did little to effect his hallucinations, only making him dizzy as a result.  
  
    “You still get them, yeah?” Her eyes almost looked sympathetic. “Why you keep spacing out. I need my allies to be in top condition, don’t you think?”  
  
    As if she really cared, some other selfish motivation.  
  
    But a motivation none-the-less.  
  
    “Fine,” He held out the tape player. “You get no more than a month.”  
  
    “You got it,” She practically snatched it out of his hands, eyeing it like a birthday present. “This’ll be fun, never fixed something this old before. Want me to give it some upgrades?”  
  
    “No,” Reaper turned away from her again, trying to meld back into the wall. Jack was still in there, his foot tapping against the floor.  
  
    “Come on, don’t go and pout. We have another two hours up here.” She sat up in the seat, glancing around the room for a moment. “Are... you seeing something right now?”  
  
    He didn’t really want to answer that, unsure of how she’d respond.  
  
    Instead he asked, “Is there anyone else in here right now?”  
  
    “Nope,” She ran her fingers over the headphones. “Just us. Why, do you see someone?”  
  
    The image of Jack had faded out, leaving nothing but the hum of the ship’s engine.  
  
    “Not anymore.”  
  
\---------------------------  
      
    Reaper didn’t even see Sombra for a month. He had his own solo missions to run, as well as another one from Talon. He had no clue what she was up to but she frequently sent him messages, finding whatever device he was using to communicate. Normally it would bother him, but if anyone could keep a line secure it was her. She never let anyone else trace his device.  
  
     > _Made lots of progress on the tape! Here’s a photo. I doodled a face on it jaja._  
  
     > _Here’s another pic. Looks like McCree jajajaja_  
  
    Reaper stared at the digitally drawn cowboy hat and frowned. He never realized Sombra was such a bad artist.  
  
    Not that he said that.  
  
     > _Asked Widowmaker if she misses u. Said she has no idea what that means._  
  
     > _But look I got a selfie_  
  
    The photo attached was Sombra taking up most of the frame with a huge grin on her face. Widowmaker was in the background, clearly posed to take a shot.  
  
    Goofing around in the middle of a job yet again.  
  
    A month later he was waiting in a safe house, one of the hundreds Sombra owned by simply hacking through the real estate system. Sometimes she had to swap them around to keep all the fake names from being traced, but they served their purpose.  
  
     > _Should be food there, help urself Be there in ten._  
  
    There was indeed food, but Reaper could barely call the endless list of junkfood something worth eating. His tastebuds were barely functional as it was, as if he wanted to eat something this bland.  
  
    He heard something beep in the next room. His paranoia took charge and he shifted forms when he rushed in, searching for the source of the sound.  
  
    Then he spotted one of Sombra’s translocators in the corner. He made the mistake of stepping closer, wondering if it was malfunctioning.  
  
    In a flash of purple Sombra sprang up, grinning with her arms open.  
  
    “Hola!” She chimed and latched onto his shoulders. The force caused Reaper to spin around, hoping she’d let go.  
  
    He took note that Sombra’s mohawk was pulled back into a ponytail. He often did that when he preferred masculine pronouns.  
  
    “Get off me,” Reaper tried to shove him back.  
  
    “Aw, but I missed you.” He tried to hug tighter but then backed up. “Ugh, your outfit is so uncomfy. We have to get you a new one.”  
  
    “It’s practical.”  
  
    “Practical my ass, _anciano_.” He let go and waved a hand. “You just think it looks cool.”  
  
    “And yours is any better? Mister pink hair?”  
  
    “I’d rather be punk than death metal goth.” Sombra laughed. “Anyway, I didn’t come here early to talk about fashion. Here.”  
  
    He snapped out the tape recorder, a new pair of earphones hanging from it, still red. The thing almost looked brand new, although the cracked plastic was still in place.  
  
    “Couldn’t find a replacement for this part, sadly. Also the fast forward button is a little wonky.” He tapped it. “But otherwise it works great. Not bad music either. I guess McCree had a few decent tastes.”  
  
    Reaper could hear him humming the first few notes of “Killer Queen”. He tried to ignore it, holding out his hand so Sombra could hand over the device.  
  
    He considered saying thank you, but couldn’t bring himself to do it. It wasn’t a favor, it was a deal.  
      
    “Just promise me you won’t sing along like you do with all those musicals.” Sombra rolled his eyes and headed to the kitchen. “If I have to see you and Widowmaker mimicking another song I’m gonna hurl.”  
  
    “I’m sorry your childhood was so deprived.” He taunted, putting one of the earbuds in.  
  
    Sombra just snorted, digging into the fridge.  
  
    Reaper hit the play button, relief washing over him on habit when the first few cords played. Even now it still put him at ease, made him want to sleep, if only he could still do that properly.  
  
    Maybe he did. His memory seemed to fizzle out, snapping back into place four tracks later. He was laying on the couch–however he had gotten there–with Sombra sitting on the other end. The TV was on, some horror film while the hacker stuffed his face with corn chips. Even then he was only half paying attention, his holoscreen up and running.  
  
    “You’re supposed to dip those.” Reaper growled.  
  
    “Oh, you’re back.” He smiled. “And whatever, store bought salsa is gross and I’m too lazy to make some.” He crunched through another chip. “Hey, don’t you think you’d look better in something like this?”  
  
    He swiped the screen over. Dozens of photos were on the screen, different pieces of clothes for both fashion and combat. The one in the center was a long coat, black with some kind of gaudy red pattern.  
  
    Reaper snorted before shoving it back. “I hate the color red.”  
  
    “Huh?” Sombra blinked. “Really? But doesn’t it fit your...” He studied the coat and frowned. “Hm, didn’t realize. What for?”  
  
    Reaper stared at the ceiling for a while, not inclined to say.  
  
    “What about blue? Blue and Black is pretty cool.”  
  
    “Sombra.”  
  
    “Ooooh wait, that was Jackie’s eye color right?”  
  
    Reaper sat up, fast, practically shoving through the screen and making it vanish.  
  
    “Stop.”  
  
    Sombra looked frightened for a brief moment before pouting and turning away. “ _Sí, sí, lo siento_.”  
  
    Reaper fell back into place, turning his attention to the movie instead. Bad idea, gory scene with blood splattering against the wall. He sighed and put the other earbud in, trying to drown out the noise.  
  
    “Want me to change the channel?” Sombra asked.  
  
    Reaper only nodded. The hacker switched it without another word. The pair of them sat in silence until Widowmaker arrived.  
  
\--------------------------  
  
    When Reaper actually saw McCree again it had been about three years since their last encounter. A shitty argument, the final straw, forcing McCree to bolt out of the door and vanish into the night.  
  
    Reaper knew he couldn’t blame him, constantly told himself it was better that way. After all he wanted Jesse to leave, right?  
  
    But the loneliness that followed left him feeling betrayed. He wasn’t sure what to think anymore.  
  
    Still, for some reason he found himself constantly dusting behind his trail. With Sombra’s help he kept governments and bounty hunters running in circles. He insisted it was because McCree had intel they couldn’t get their hands on, but he knew better.  
  
    Sombra did too.  
  
    There was no telling if McCree noticed. His observation skills were often very selective, and while some days he could tell you every detail of a room after only seeing it for ten seconds, other days he couldn’t find his own hat that was sitting on his head.  
  
    And keeping his trail clean was hard work, considering the amount of dust he kicked up. The foolish kid would still run into situations, guns blazing, just to help a few people that didn’t even matter. Who even taught him to run into battle so selflessly?  
  
    Surely Gabriel didn’t, couldn’t have.  
  
    And there he was again, running into a fight where he didn’t belong. He took out Talon agents left and right as they tried to infiltrate the building. Of course the gunslinger was nearby when they hit the place, lord knows how he found out. Talon hadn’t done anything to draw attention from the public. Entering was smooth with Sombra’s help, then it was just a matter of working their way up. Reaper made it move faster as he shifted forms, creeping through vents and under doors.  
  
    But then McCree, fucking McCree, couldn’t even be quiet when he came in. No, the bastard had to come flying in on the fifth floor, shattering a window in the process. The element of surprise gave him the chance to take out six agents.  
  
    Sombra started humming “The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly” theme.  
  
    “Sombra,” He growled into the comm. “Now isn’t the time. Where is he?”  
  
     _“Oh? Are you going to fight him?”_  
  
    “No one else can.”  
  
     _“Oh I don’t know about that. Looks like three guys- oop, nevermind.”_  
  
    “Where is he.”  
  
     _“Seventh floor,”_ He finally answered. _“Headed up to the eighth. Cut him off in the stairway.”_  
  
    “Tell the others to use the elevator.” Reaper hovered to move quicker, slipping under the door to the stairs. He could hear the cowboy running up them, spurs echoing up and down the concrete walls. Reaper didn’t hesitate to leap over the rails, shifting back into smoke before he landed.  
  
    The second he reformed, McCree fired a shot, hitting him in the shoulder.  
  
    “Ow,” He growled and rolled it, letting it shift in and out of shape to dislodge the bullet. “Is that how you greet everyone?”  
  
    “Who the hell are you supposed to be?” The cowboy clicked his revolver. Four rounds left.  
  
    Reaper thought about how to answer that, something dramatic or something literal. He certainly wasn’t handing out his identity.  
  
    “Judging by your outfit I’m guessing we’re two people who stumbled upon the wrong movie set.”  
  
    McCree didn’t appreciate the joke, gritting his teeth. “Hilarious. You with the guys who shot the secretary down there? She was handing out cookies you know.”  
  
    Reaper ignored the question. “How did you find out we were in here?”  
  
    That made him smirk, a chuckle escaping through his lips. “One of your guys tossed a body into the dumpster from the window. I was sleeping behind it.”  
  
    Irritation shot up Reaper’s spine and he caught himself before he growled. Of course, _of course_ , McCree was sleeping there. If there was anything Gabriel quickly learned about Jesse McCree, it’s that chaos followed him like an eager child. But McCree was the embodiment of all those western legends about men lassoing tornados. It never mattered what mess occurred, how chaotic things got, he’d always sweep it under his hands with a grin and take it for a joy ride. Chaos followed him, because the son-of-a-bitch had tamed it.  
  
    This was why he had to cut McCree off. He couldn’t let him control this situation.  
  
    He glanced over the cowboy’s outfit, now taking note of the prosthetic arm. Likely lost that in another stunt, no doubt, perhaps he’d ask Sombra about it.  
  
    And that serape, god damn, it was like the bandanna but worse. That gaudy red and gold completely covered his shoulders.  
  
    He expected it to shift, to melt onto the floor, but for some reason the cloth reminded him of fire instead.  
  
    “Get out of my way.” McCree finally spoke up. “Or shoot me. Pick one. I’m not actually that fond of stand-offs. Waste time.”  
  
    “Could have fooled me, cowboy.”  
  
    McCree narrowed his eyes and pointed his gun at Reaper’s mask.  
  
    He phased out when the shot went off. He could still feel the bullet tearing through him, hitting the concrete wall. With the sensation blazing through his mismatched nerves he couldn’t reform.  
  
    He didn’t expect McCree to run clean through him.  
  
    The cowboy was rushing up the stairs, spurs clanging as he went.  
  
    Reaper flew after him, trying to hide his frustration. God damn, should have known the kid would figure out the trap. He was never the kind to waste time on a fight when there was something more important on the line. He reformed part of his body as he kept floating, tapping his comm.  
  
    “Have they reached the target yet?”  
  
     _“Not quite, still going. Hey, I can see McCree’s arm from here. Try using an EMP on it. Only temporary but it should give you a chance to knock him out.”_  
  
    Reaper wasn’t sure he was fond of that idea, but it beat the option of having to shoot him. He pulled out the device, desperately trying to get close enough to attach it. Direct contact would have a much better effect.  
  
    McCree reached the door, kicking it open as he burst out onto the floor. Reaper prayed his men were fast enough to move ahead of that floor, but a couple of agents were there, clearing people out.  
  
    “Step right up,” McCree taunted, clicking his revolver.  
  
    Reaper didn’t hesitate to slam into him, pinning him to the floor. The agents seemed startled for a second.  
  
    “Move,” Reaper shouted. The pair of them took off.  
  
    “Now why’d you have to go and interrupt.”  
  
    Reaper had taken plenty of hits before, but a prosthetic elbow to a face was something different. The limb was clearly built for power, hitting him hard enough to crack his mask and make his vision go white. He quickly shifted his form before McCree could land another hit, but it let the cowboy scramble out from underneath him.  
  
    “Scuse me, but I don’t got time to deal with you.”  
  
    The cowboy dashed back into the stairway. Reaper didn’t hesitate to follow after.  
  
    A flashbang clanged onto the floor.  
  
    He retreated back under the door just in time. The vibrations from the blast shook his regenerating cells. Everything felt like static.  
  
    Damn that kid. Where had he learned half these tricks?  
  
    Sombra’s voice was static until he reformed. _“Keeps going up the stairs.”_  
  
    Reaper moved to the elevator, as swift as he could manage with his nerves on fire again. “Sombra, get the elevator doors.”  
  
    They always opened too slowly but it didn’t matter. The space was enough to phase through and he shot up the empty shaft. The elevator itself was a few floors higher.  
  
    Good.  
  
    On the floor below it, he made his way out. He spotted a few employees cowering behind a desk. One screamed when they saw him but he ignored it. They weren’t his target, not anymore.  
  
    Reaper opened the door to the stairs, shotgun ready. Just in time. The cowboy was one flight below him, eyes going wide for a second.  
  
    He fired a shot, mostly a warning. The cowboy was forced to duck into a roll, practically falling down the stairs. His back slammed into the wall, but he had his gun ready. It was fully loaded this time.  
  
    “End of the line, cowboy.”  
  
    “Not damn likely.”  
  
    He was back up in a flash, always quick on the recovery. He had his gun aimed as he bolted up the stairs, his left hand hovering over it.       
  
    But Reaper saw his tactic this time.  
  
    The kid fired off all six rounds, perfectly aimed, if Reaper hadn’t already shifted. He remained in his smokey form. Let the kid think he’d gotten the advantage.  
  
    He was at least smart enough to reload before he got close, but it wouldn’t do any good.  
  
    Reaper didn’t hesitate this time. The second the kid was close enough he shot forward, arm outstretched. He grabbed the prosthetic, now very aware of the power behind it, but it didn’t matter now.  
  
    The EMP latched on. Static flew out of the limb.  
  
    Jesse screamed.  
  
    The sound made Reaper freeze, hands hovering in the air. He only watched as McCree dropped his gun clutching his arm as he stumbled back and hit the wall.  
  
     _Help him._ His mind screamed. _Help him, god damn it._  
  
    But he didn’t move. He couldn’t. The kid would survive, and he had more important things to worry about.  
  
    Finally it stopped. The static vanished and the lights on his arm went out. McCree wasn’t moving either, head tilted to the side, eyes closed.  
  
    Had he passed out?  
  
    Wimp.  
  
    Still, Reaper hovered closer, putting a hand on Jesse’s chest. He was still breathing, heart still beating, he was alive.  
  
    “Sombra,” He growled. “What the hell was that?”  
  
   _“Uh, an EMP?”_  
  
    “I didn’t realize EMPs and tasers were one in the same.”  
  
     _“It’s a prosthetic,”_ He added. _“It’s probably connected to his nerves so uh...”_  
  
    “You couldn’t warn me?”  
  
   _“Oh quit being a dad, he’s fine. He’ll snap out of it and it’ll reboot. Until then hurry up, we’re almost to the target.”_  
  
    Sombra was right, McCree would be fine. And even if he wouldn’t it didn’t matter. Reaper didn’t have any obligation to help him.  
  
    He tugged at the serape for a second. Red was coating his hands again, dark on the claws of his gloves, but the serape remained the same shade.  
  
    Strange.  
  
    Even after all these years the kid still didn’t carry any blood on his hands.  
  
    He hesitated before standing up. He couldn’t just leave the kid in here. If the agents ran back down the stairs they’d end him for sure.  
  
    Reaper grabbed Peacekeeper before lifting the kid up. He certainly weighed a lot more than he did at eighteen, but it didn’t matter much.  
  
    He nudged open the door, glancing around before he kept moving. The employees on that floor were still hiding, somewhere, maybe they’d help him out.  
  
    In the mean time he propped Jesse up against the wall next to one of the potted plants. The fern leaves were annoying, constantly draping down and brushing against his hood. He almost kicked it over in frustration.  
  
   _“Reaper,”_ Sombra complained. _“I can see you.”_  
  
    He looked at the closest camera and put a finger over his mask.  
  
   _“Don’t you shush me.”_  
  
    He chuckled a bit before he pulled out the tape player. He debated parting with it, knowing how much it helped, but he didn’t have the right to carry it around anymore.  
  
    It was about time he gave it back.  
  
    Reaper put the device in Jesse’s palm, curling his fingers over it. He knew he was lingering longer than necessary, but couldn’t seem to stop.  
  
    “Take care of it, mijo.” He forced himself to let go, to take a step back. A little more badgering from Sombra had him rushing back up the stairs.  
  
    But at one point he paused, studying his claws and his gloves.  
  
    The red seemed just a little duller.


End file.
